The Ties that Bind
by drgemini86
Summary: Sam and Cam get drunk after the events of Fourth Horseman Part II. Sam/Daniel, mention of Sam/Jack.
1. Chapter 1

**The Ties that Bind, by DrGemini86**

_**Summary: **__Sam and Cam get drunk after the events of Fourth Horseman Part II. Sam/Daniel, mention of Sam/Jack._

_**Category: **__UST_

_**Spoilers: **__Seasons 1-9_

_**Rating: **__T_

_**Author Notes: **__I did consider a Sam/Cam but I like their friendship too much. Also, please consume alcohol responsibly; these guys are battle seasoned Air Force officers with multiple traumas and poor psychological support. _

0o0o0o0o0o0

The bonds between SG-1 had always been strong; they had each gone through hell and back for one another, for the planet and the wider galaxy, and even beyond. The original line-up had quite literally been to hell, if Jackson's stories were anything to go by, especially during team nights when O'Neill would pepper Jackson's tipsy anecdotes and memories with inappropriate remarks. Cam lived for team socials: going to O'Malley's, doing shots with O'Neill – who would always be the last one standing; the occasional beer with Jackson; movie nights with the whole Scooby gang. He was still finding his feet as SG-1 leader, but they had made him feel as part of the team. He had got the band back together and though there was another bad guy, or bad guys, on the block – Jackson's fault, as he would remind the archaeologist when they were at least seven beers deep – he was confident that they would come out victorious; that they would do what SG-1 had always done.

This time, he had managed to prise Sam out of her lab. He hadn't spoken to her outside of the Mountain much since she had come back from Nevada. However, he sensed she needed a break after what had happened to Orlin. The Samantha Carter he had known before had been an open book, but since she had returned, he noticed she had become more guarded; maybe she felt out of place after being out of the team for a short while. Team leader responsibility aside, he wanted to get drunk after all that business with the plague, and she was the least likely to wave a translation at him or claim to be teetotal.

He carried a crate of beers from his kitchen into the lounge, where she was kneeling in front of the television, perusing his DVD collection. She looked up at him, remarking sceptically on seeing the crate, "How much do you plan on drinking?"

He rolled his eyes and glared at her semi-seriously as he placed the crate down next to the sofa behind her. He removed two bottles from the crate, and opened both before handing her a bottle. Kneeling next to her, he took a swig from his bottle and said, glancing at the DVDs, "Figure we need to get drunk. What are we watching?"

She shrugged, taking a swig from her own bottle, before looking at the DVDs. "Well, the Mummy is a little too close to home, and I'll just hear Daniel ranting in my head about the inaccuracies; I don't really care for Too Fast Too Furious..."

He snorted derisively, and when she looked at him curiously, he remarked, "_Samantha, _that franchise is a classic." He raised a finger. "_And... _that is rich coming from you; you're a bigger speed freak than I am."

She laughed, and shook her head in disbelief at him. Taking another swig, she said, reaching for a disc, "What about this? I've heard you talk about it at work, and I figure we won't have to concentrate on it too much."

He inclined his head as she put the disc into the machine and he remarked, sounding impressed, "Good choice. Thought we were going to watch Singing in the Rain again."

As they got up to sit on the sofa behind them, she said, a touch defensively, "Now that _is _a classic."

"Says you."

As the movie began to play, she placed the remote control down and relaxed back into her seat. He looked back at her and remarked, doing the same, "Making yourself at home?"

She replied with a smile, "It's just nice not being at work for once." She glanced around the room and asked, "What are we doing for food?"

He said with a shrug, "Meh, something will turn up."

She snorted with laughter, trying not to spit out the beer she had just swigged. Managing to swallow it, she laughed again, and remarked with a nudge, "Typical man." Her smile faded as her attention wandered back to the film. "It's nice just for once not having to be somewhere or do something..."

He retorted, glaring at her again, "Hey, don't jinx it." His gaze softened as he watched her. He said, "How are you feeling?"

She glanced at him, distracted. She replied with a shrug, "Fine, I guess."

He grimaced a little. He knew how closed off she could get. He may not have known her as long as the others had but he had known her longer than the others had known him. He knew she had a propensity to at least try to pretend everything was okay while everything went to hell in a handbasket or seven. She was always under pressure to work miracles with few resources and even less time. There had to be some fallout; he wouldn't let her hide.

"How was he?"

She replied, distracted again as she had some more beer, "Who?"

"Orlin."

Yeah, now he had her attention. She looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears he wasn't sure he was sober enough to handle. She spoke wistfully as she tried to focus on the screen. "He's fine."

He put his beer down on the coffee table with a slightly louder thud than he had intended. This got her attention again, and he said, seriously, "Don't shut me out."

She blinked back tears that she hadn't wanted to shed in company, regardless of who was present. She said, her beer still in hand, "He didn't know who I was." She sighed and took another swig, closing her eyes as she leaned back into the seat again. "After everything we've been through..." She shook her head, unable to accurately convey the depth of her feelings, partly due to years of military training and combat experience.

He nodded, picking up his beer again. He knew that feeling all too well. She hadn't finished her sentence but he knew. He took an extra long swig. Damn, he was going to end up with a sore head in the morning. He sighed as he sat back next to her, their shoulders touching. They said nothing for a long while as they watched the film, both of them laughing at various parts as they gradually started to deplete the crate.

Loosening up a little, she looked at him and asked, "How are you settling in?"

He nodded, feeling a little spacey, a voice in the back of his mind telling him that this is where he normally stopped drinking. He said with a shrug, "It's going alright." He shrugged. "I mean, we got some new bad guys, but it'll be fine." He looked at her. "I got you, Teal'c, and Jackson watching my back; you guys fought badder."

She snorted with laughter and remarked, "I wouldn't necessarily say _badder; _more dramatic, perhaps."

He smiled at her and said, looking back at the screen, "Did you meet anyone in Nevada?"

She looked at him sceptically. "How drunk are you?"

He shrugged exaggeratedly, looking as though he was trying to weigh up his answer. He said, looking at her, "Probably about as much as you." He glanced to the side. "Okay, maybe a bit more."

They laughed. He then looked at her semi-seriously again. "So...?"

She rolled her eyes and said, "So?"

"Anyone?"

She shook her head in disbelief and sipped some more beer. He reached from the remote and muted it, the film playing to itself in the background. She shot him a look that would have ordinarily had him considering insuring his manhood. He looked at her meaningfully.

"_Samantha._"

She matched his gaze before dropping it, and saying with a shrug, "Nope. No-one."

He retorted with a laugh, "Yeah, not buying it."

She shook her head. "Honestly." She shrugged again. "I took the job so I could be there for Cassie; she was going through a rough time." She sighed. "We forget that she lost her whole world, everything she knew at a very young age." She glanced at him. "And then she lost her adopted mother." Tears stung her eyes again, her gaze dropping. "I miss her every day."

He put his beer down again and pulled her into a hug as she began to cry. He said softly, "Hey, come on."

He let her go and she sniffed, drying her eyes with the tissue he offered her. She muttered her thanks, embarrassed at being so emotional in front of another soldier, regardless of their friendship. Regaining her relative composure – she was a touch inebriated after all – she said, clearing her throat, "She's doing much better anyhow. I couldn't support her very much when we were fighting the Goa'uld. I guess I grabbed the first chance I could when the opportunity presented itself."

They resumed watching the film, and he said, opening another bottle of beer, "Do you think you'd ever try it again?"

She frowned, her head swimming. "Try what again?"

"Dating."

She almost choked on her beer mid-swig. When she had recovered, she said, looking mortified, "What's brought this on?"

He said with a shrug, "Just taking an interest in my team. Me and you don't get to hang out much. And I can do emotions once we've had a few beers." He looked at her meaningfully. "So...?"

She rolled her eyes at him again, and said, a wistful expression on his face, "My default is work; I'm happy right now." She looked at him seriously. "I really missed going through the 'gate." She smiled slightly. "Thanks for getting us back together."

He replied with a smile, taking another swig, "Well, I wanted to work with the best of the best; not a blank slate."

She excused herself to go to the bathroom, and he resumed watching the film. On her return, he offered her another bottle which she reluctantly accepted. He asked, "So are the rumours about you and O'Neill true?"

She just about managed to stop herself from choking as she sat down. She said, incredulous, "What?"

He said with a shrug, feigning casualness, "You and O'Neill are apparently bumping uglies every time he comes over from Washington, and while you were in Nevada."

She looked even more incredulous. She shook her head eventually and said with a sceptical laugh, "You'd think I'd recall that." He looked at her, a little surprised. She said with a shrug as she sank back into the seat, "Nope, nothing ever came for that." She glanced at him cryptically. "... because there was always someone else in the way."

He looked at her, not quite believing what she had said. He said, his eyes widening a little, "Aw, now this I gotta hear." He paused. "Who?"

She shook her head and said, a soft smile on her lips, "Not telling."

"Now you can't leave me on the edge like that; we're supposed to be a team."

Her face heated up, her heart pounding as she looked at him. He looked at her meaningfully, or at least as meaningfully as he could in their state. She blinked and said, her words tinged with sadness, "It doesn't matter any more."

"Why not?" He reached for her hand. "Who is it?" Something gradually dawned on him and he silently prayed they wouldn't get summoned into action as he felt a lot slower than his usual professional self; not that General Landry would let either of them on duty in their present states, regardless of the drama of the week. "It's Jackson, isn't it?"

She smiled wistfully and took another swig. A little overwhelmed but not completely surprised, he remarked, "Aw, hell to the no."

She resumed watching the film, continuing to look wistful. He said, looking at her in concern, "Why didn't you say anything?"

She said sombrely, taking another sip, "It was never the right time." She looked at him. "When I first met him, he was married, then he lost Sha're and he spent so long looking for her." She sniffed back tears that were threatening to spill. "Then when I was building myself up to tell him, he died..." She closed her eyes briefly. "Well, he didn't die; he ascended or whatever he did, but he came back and he was trying to find himself again." She sniffed again. "He'd had to relive the pain of losing Sha're all over again; I... I just couldn't, and then we lost Janet. Then of course, everything else that was going on around that time."

He pulled her into a hug, a concerned expression on his face, his beer forgotten on the coffee table. She said, muffled, her eyes closed, "And plus even if he did feel the same way that I do, there's the frat regs."

He released her and she dried her eyes. He said, "I'm sure we could work around them; after everything you two have done for the planet." He shrugged. "Okay, so Jackson could be officially off the team but be a civilian consultant on paper."

She said, bemused, "Aren't we jumping the gun? I don't know if he feels the same way as I do."

He replied, still looking concerned, "Look, my point is, there is always a way." He shrugged again, looking a little cheeky. "I'm thinking you just don't want to tell him. Girl, you need to live a little."

She snorted with laughter and replied, "I live plenty."

"_Plenty?_"

She sighed and said, looking hopeful, "If I don't tell him, I don't disrupt the team dynamics. He doesn't need to know; we can carry on doing what we do best." She smiled a little. "I love my job; I missed everyone when I was out in Nevada. Research is great, but this is everything to me; exploration, discovery... I mean, I could do without the hundred yard dashes to the Stargate so often under fire..." she shrugged, "... but hey, I'm not fussy."

He raised a finger, the voice in the back of his mind screaming at him to stop drinking. He shrugged, thinking to himself that he ought to listen to it. He said, pointing at her, "You've got to tell him."

She said, scrunching up her nose, "Why are you so interested in it anyway?"

He said with a shrug, "I just want to see you happy and have a life outside of work for once. It's been all work work work since I've known you. Life is short."

She laughed and replied, "Work on yourself."

He said, trying to be serious, his head quite foggy now, "Hey... it'll happen for me; you can't rush these things." He remarked with smirk, "I'm just not going to hang onto someone for nine years and not say anything. Seize the day."

She tried to resume watching the film but found herself lost as to what was happening. Her eyes began to feel heavy and she found herself closing her eyes, leaning her head against his shoulder. She yawned, stretching a little, and said drowsily, "Seize your own day."


	2. Chapter 2

_Tag to Collateral Damage, which I presume was at least a few weeks after the events of the Fourth Horseman Parts I & II. _

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

His thoughts dark and heavy, Cam left the changing room at the SGC. He had got dressed for home, ready to sink some bottles in front of the television and pass out. That whole business on Galara had dragged him back to a very dark place in his past; a place he had spent years running from, trying to make himself a better person from. Everyone had told him it hadn't been his fault – the order had come too late to abort the missile he had fired at what had turned out to be a refugee convoy. But the fact remained that that incident had burned into his memory so deeply that the Galarans would be hard pressed to remove it from him. He had done a pretty job of getting by, of building himself up, repeatedly, to get to where he was now.

But it now felt as though all of that had been undone. Okay, at least he wasn't physically injured this time around, but mentally, he felt as though he was drowning, the darkness crushing him, taking his breath away.

He needed to get out.

He aimed himself, almost on auto-pilot by now, towards the elevator, hoping to get out impeded. The last thing he needed was Landry deciding he needed to talk or Jackson or Teal'c trying to rope him into something. Truth be told, it wasn't as though he was an expert in something; perhaps he was humouring himself to think that someone would stop him.

He'd got into the thankfully empty elevator and clumsily pressed the right button. As the doors closed, he was ready to close his eyes and lean his head back against the wall, needing some kind of reprieve, when an arm got in the way, stopping the doors from closing. Confused, he stared as Sam entered the elevator.

With a bashful smile, she nodded at him and said with a shrug, "Tough day, huh?"

As the elevator resumed its programmed function, he sighed, resting his head against the wall as he had intended, his eyes closed, his accent a little heavier than usual. "Ain't that the truth, sister." He opened his eyes and said, weariness evident in his voice, "Where are you going? Jackson said you had some doohickey to work on."

She smiled briefly and then said, concerned, "We need to talk."

He frowned, wanting to be left alone, and she inclined her head, saying, "Teal'c's idea. Daniel and Landry said to let you work things out for yourself but I don't think you should be alone right now."

He continued his scrutiny, inwardly unsure of what to say or how to react. She resumed with a shrug, looking towards the doors, "In any case, I could do with a beer... and a steak." She glanced at him, slightly amused, "We're having food with our alcohol this time."

As the doors opened at the right level, he smirked briefly at her comment, following her to the first security checkpoint. Despite the darkness, he knew his team had his back, even if they sometimes differed on how they would have it.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The evening rush at O'Malley's over, the staff cleared the last reminders of it as Sam and Cam sat at a booth in an inconspicuous part of the restaurant. This restaurant had been a regular haunt of the team for a number of years, especially when O'Neill had been around. She hid a smile as she cut into her steak, recalling General Hammond having to go in and apologise on their behalf after an incident with the Atok armbands. Her smile faded as she looked at Cam, his drink in hand but not drunk; his steak barely touched. Chewing her steak, she sighed slightly. Though she had known Cam a bit longer than the others, there was still much she didn't know about him. Though they, on occasion, mocked his relative lack of experience compared to theirs, and his overwhelming enthusiasm at times, he had proven to be a very capable soldier and leader.

Landry had mentioned something – alluding to something he had read in a service file. Sam had surmised something on Galara when the scientists were trying to find a memory of similar characteristics to the one implanted in him. She mentally shook her head. She should expect by now that not all planets and civilisations had the same values she believed to be morally right; however, the whole situation on Galara had left her with a bad taste in her mouth. They had let a murderer resume working on a project because they could not recover the memory that incriminated him, and their need for the project's success overrode justice for Doctor Varrick.

Noticing her scrutiny, Cam said, wearily, "What?"

She swallowed the piece of steak she had been chewing, and then sipped some cola. She said, concerned, "Eat something."

As though woken from a stupor, he looked at the beer he held. He scrunched his nose and said, "I'm not feeling it." He sighed and picked up his cutlery, his beer on the table. He slowly cut into the steak and tried to think of other things; trying not to hold a one-man pity party for himself, but it was hard. Quite frankly, he didn't really want to talk about it, or even eat what he would have normally devoured within minutes in lighter times. Even the beer wasn't enticing and he was no stranger to that amber-hued libation to the gods.

Idly cutting into the steak, unsure of whether he was going to eat it or not, he said quietly, "They shouldn't get away with it."

Knowing what he was talking about, she looked at him sympathetically. She said at the same volume, "There's nothing we can do."

"Hell, Jackson told the Emissary my word would hold a lot of weight in the negotiations but my word means shit." He cleared his throat, realising his voice had risen a little. Not wanting to attract the attention of the staff, he said in a quieter tone of voice, his gaze dropping, "I know we're not meant to interfere with cultures but just because he can't remember murdering her doesn't mean he gets away with it."

She said nothing, knowing that nothing would bring Reya back; nothing would undo what had happened on Galara; nothing would, to him at least, atone for the 'sins' of the past. She continued eating in silence, waiting for him to speak, letting him set the pace. He dropped his cutlery and she looked up at him; his gaze downward cast, he said softly,

"The reason I keep on going..." He paused. "... I'm living days that I don't deserve." She made to say something, to reach out to him, when he shook his head and said, meeting her gaze, "I killed innocent people, Sam. I buried that memory a long time ago. I promised I'd be better; that I'd do better." He blinked back tears that burned his eyes, his gaze dropping in embarrassment. "An old friend of mine paid for my sins too."

She continued to look at him sympathetically, knowing how much it had taken for him to be _that_ forthright with her. He groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands, saying, "Aw, hell, and you guys thought you had more baggage." He met her gaze, his countenance appearing drained. "Thanks."

Sipping her cola, she said with a shrug, "The environment in which we work isn't great for mental health."

He muttered, his gaze dropping briefly, "Ain't that the truth."

She nodded towards his plate. "Anyway, eat up; I fancy trouncing you at Pool."

He blinked at her, looking more like his usual self. He said, sceptically, "_Trouncing_?"

She met his gaze, feigning innocence as she said with a smile, "Yes. I seem to recall an Air Force Colonel being well and truly trounced last time we played."

He retorted, feigning offence, "Hey..." He paused. "You cheated." When she tried to deny his claim, he continued, almost laughing, "Nuh-uh, using Jackson as a decoy is cheating."

She laughed softly, recalling a social occasion with the rest of the team. She said with a shrug, "Hey, not my fault if you will start arguments about his fields of expertise."

"That's the point; I didn't."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Maybe decimated instead of trounced."

Passing their Pool cues to people waiting to play, Cam retorted with a semi-serious glare, "Funny, _Samantha._"

Sam smirked as she shrugged on her jacket as they walked towards the bar. She said, feigning innocence, "Hey, I can't help being a good shot." She nodded towards the bar. "One more for the road?"

He reached into his own jacket which was over his arm, and he said, "Well, if we do, I'm paying." When she made to object, he said with an incline of his head, "Coke is cheaper than those whiskey chasers you keep plying me with."

She rolled her eyes and said, "You paid last time."

He raised a finger and replied, "Actually. Jackson paid." He regarded her with a smirk as they waited at the bar while the barman served another customer.

She said, a little defensively, "What?"

He continued smirking. "You know what."

She rolled her eyes at him and concentrated on the barman as he approached them. She ordered their drinks and was about to pay when Cam beat her to it. The barman looked from one to the other of the Colonels and hesitantly at first took what Cam had offered. Sam said, looking annoyed, "Cam. I said I'd pay."

He perched on a stool and said, a touch weary and quite possibly tipsy too, "Yeah, well, I paid."

She took up a stool next to him, nodding in thanks to the barman when he gave them their drinks. Cam sipped his whiskey and suddenly felt the alcohol he had been steadily imbibing all evening. Sam said nothing as she sipped her cola, watching the Pool game in the middle distance between some of the other punters.

Cam glanced at her and said quietly, "You know, you ought to tell Jackson." She glared at him in reply, and he continued, with a shrug, "I know I keep sayin' it, but it doesn't make it any less true." He paused and said with a smirk, "I think he actually might dig you back."

She rolled her eyes at him, not for the first time. She said, a tad defensively, "_Dig?_"

"You know what I'm sayin'."

She felt her phone buzz in the pocket of her jeans and she reached in to retrieve it. He looked at her, a mite concerned that they would need to spring into action, forgetting for a moment that he was not fit for service in his present state. She looked at the screen of her phone and tapped some keys on the screen before returning it to her pocket.

Noticing his scrutiny, she said, a little shyly, "Daniel wanted to know if we were still out; he said he might swing by on his way home."

Cam looked surprised at this and remarked, taking another sip of whiskey, "_On his way home_? I've never seen that boy outside of the Mountain." She looked at him sceptically, inwardly contemplating just how inebriated her colleague was. He continued, attempting to look serious, "You gots to tell him now."

"_Gots_?"

He reached for her hand. "Sam. I'm serious."

She raised an eyebrow at him and gave him another sceptical look. "You're drunk."

He nodded slowly and shrugged in acceptance. "Hey, I may be a little on the tipsy side."

She interrupted him, raising her hand briefly. "_A lot._"

"Okay, I may be quite close to being completely fucked." She snorted with laughter at the turn of phrase. He continued, raising a finger, "What Landry doesn't know..."


	3. Chapter 3

"You didn't have to do this – we could have got a cab."

Sam glanced into the back of the car that they were in to see Cam sat in the back-seat, his head against one of the windows, his face rather comically against the glass as he began to snore. She looked back at Daniel in the front seat beside her as he began to pull out of the space. They had just, with nearly twenty years of being on SG-1 between them, plus Sam's prior military experience, managed to manhandle their commanding officer into the back of Daniel's car. They had never had this problem with the General, but then he would save anything more than social drinking for his cabin. And then, he usually knew when to stop.

Daniel glanced at her and replied with a shrug, "Well, I was going to swing by on my way home anyway; might as well make myself useful."

She smiled in thanks, patting his knee as she returned her gaze to the road. The silence was loudly interrupted by a louder snore from the back and some murmurs as Cam shifted in his sleep. Sam looked back at him to make sure he was okay, and Daniel said a touch sarcastically, glancing in his wing mirror at Cam,

"Well, this is a first."

Sam chuckled softly in amusement, resuming her comparison between the General and Cam, while also wondering whether Daniel knew how to use his gas pedal. Daniel asked, his eyes on the road, "Did you have a good time?"

Glancing back at Cam, she said, "It was nice not being at work for once." She smiled a little wistfully, resting her head against the headrest. "He tries so hard for all of us to like him; I think he forgets he needs to take care of himself."

He hummed in reply before saying, as he turned at a junction, "That comes with time; we... you, me, and Teal'c, have learnt to live with our various traumas." He paused. "Almost." He glanced at Sam. "Jack is something else. I suppose it is coping and he's probably done the best out of all of us, considering."

She sighed in reply, her eyes returning to the road, her mind going back over the years, beginning to revisit the darkness they had experienced. She mentally shook herself; now was not the time. To diffuse her inner angst, she said playfully, "That's something from someone appearing naked in General O'Neill's office."

He felt his face heating up and he was grateful for the night, hoping it would hide his no doubt reddening cheeks. He cast his mind back to that day as they reached a stretch of road, and did his best to keep his features neutral. SG-1 had been close; they had seen one another in various states of dishabille over the years, but when she had brought that particular situation up, he started to panic a little. He didn't quite know why, but he felt vulnerable all over again; as though everyone could see him; as though he had nowhere to hide. Maybe she would find out... he mentally shook himself; _not now Daniel_.

_Still a sore spot. _She regarded his tight-lipped composure as he focussed on the road. Not the worst thing he had ever experienced – by far – but then he was always quite reticent when it came to his body. She settled back in her seat again and her face heated up as her mind drifted back to that particular thought. It really wasn't the right time for her to think about _that_ now; she usually saved that for when she was alone at home, which was rare as she was usually at work.

She awoke from her reverie to find that they were outside Cam's place. She struggled to meet Daniel's gaze, feeling quite embarrassed. Instead, she turned to look at Cam, the Lieutenant Colonel still snoring away, although his face wasn't smooshed against the glass any more. She called his name. When he didn't answer, she tried again, a little louder. When that didn't work, she, with a mischievous smile, threw her purse at him.

Oh yeah, that did it.

He jumped awake, startled at the impact of a purse against his head. He looked down at it in confusion and then around himself. He relaxed a little on realising where he was, spotting his house through the glass. He then looked at Daniel who looked back at him with... wait, was that contempt? He wasn't quite sure; and Sam who feigned innocence, the latter saying pointlessly,

"We're here."

Cam glared at her; well, as much as he could in his state. He yawned and then said, looking down at the purse he held in his hands, "The weird thing is that I've had worse thrown at my head." Staring at Sam blankly as she tried to reach for it, he snatched it from her reach and casually slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket. She rolled his eyes at him as he opened the door, and before she could react, Daniel was out of the car, ready to shepherd the Lieutenant Colonel into his house. Sam got of the car and fished in her pocket for a set of keys.

As Daniel grabbed a staggering Cam, stopping him from falling over, the archaeologist looked at Sam with a confused frown. He found himself wondering why she had a set of keys for their colleague. Noticing his scrutiny, she said as they walked towards the front door, "I took them from him before he got this drunk." As she unlocked the door, she glanced at him and remarked with a smirk, "There is enough gossip about me and General O'Neill." She felt her face heat up again and she concentrated on opening the door. "It won't take much to start some about me and Cam."

Nothing was said as they both got Cam into his house. Closing the door behind her, she helped Daniel support him as she looked over at the archaeologist. She said, guiding them to the lounge, "Let's put him on the sofa for now."

They somehow manhandled him onto the sofa as he drowsily rubbed his eyes, looking around himself, rather the worse for wear. He looked up at the two of them and said, confused, his words slurred, "Uh... no-one tell Landry." He promptly slumped to his side, his friends rushing forward to help him to lie on the sofa onto his side. They had just done that when Cam suddenly vomited onto the floor, Daniel managing to get out of the way in time; Sam, however, wasn't as lucky. She looked down at herself in disgust as Cam settled down, falling asleep. Daniel made sure his airway was open and he looked at her in barely concealed amusement.

She looked at him and sighed. She shook her head, trying not to touch the vomit as she said, "I... I guess I'll get cleaned up."

Smirking a little, Daniel helped her to her feet and said, "Well, this beats Jack burning beer-soaked meat." Before she could reply, he said with a grimace as he went towards the kitchen, "Let's see what we can do about that rug."

She watched him go and then looked down at herself with a grimace of her own. With a sigh, she climbed the stairs and went into the bathroom. She emerged, looking for a clean towel, finding one on the banister before returning to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She had not drunk very much, needing to keep an eye on her colleague more as he unwound from a particularly horrific mission, but she suddenly felt a little wobbly as she switched the shower on. Steadying herself, she began to undress, making a mental note to find a disposable bag to put her clothes in. She climbed into the shower cubicle and sighed as the hot water cascaded onto her head and down her body. She opened a shower gel bottle and sniffed it; she paused in thought, debating whether it was too objectionable a smell, but then she grimaced as she thought of the vomit that had seeped through her clothing. Lathering herself up, and safe within the confines of the shower cubicle, she sighed to herself, her thoughts drifting back to dangerous territory again.

Cam's earlier comments hadn't helped – they had reawakened the feelings she had had – she had always had. _He_ was the reason she had returned to SG-1 and hadn't returned to Nevada. Okay, the exploration, the technology, the discoveries, of course played a huge part, but the chance to work with Daniel Jackson was something she could never pass up for long. Out in Nevada, it had brought back memories of _that year; _it had truly been one of the hardest years of her professional career thus far, having to carry on, not knowing where he was, if he was okay. At the time, Hammond had said that she would never get over it; that she wound – in time – learn to live with it, but she felt as though she never did. She had jumped at the chance to come back to the SGC; to see him. She had resisted Cam's exhortations; she really needed to move on, but weekly phone calls from Daniel pushed her more and more back to Colorado Springs. She closed her eyes; he was the reason why she would never pursue anything with General O'Neill; he was the reason she was back on the team. She sniffed and realised that she was crying. She made a futile attempt to wipe her tears away under the water. The torch would have to stay unlit; it hurt enough when he was hurt, lost, or in danger now and that was with some degree of professional distance. She steadied her ragged nerves with a deep breath as she switched the water off. She must have drank more than she had thought. She chuckled to herself; this was why work was her default – there was no danger of impropriety or dwelling on dangerous emotions.

She picked up the towel and proceeded to dry herself. She gave her hair a scrub with the towel and then looked in the mirror. Wiping the condensation from the glass, she looked at herself, lifting a strand of hair and looking at its reflection disdainfully. She really needed to do something with her hair. She had never really had the patience to grow it out but she occasionally wondered how she would look if she had. The longest it had been since her teens was when she grew it into a bob five years previously. Recently, Cassie had begged her to grow it out after seeing old pictures of her. She mused as she regarded herself, wondering idly how she would look. It would however require a lot more maintenance than she was accustomed to. She crinkled up her nose at that last thought; she didn't have time for that kind of maintenance.

With another sigh, she rinsed the shower cubicle clean before wrapping a towel around herself. She grimaced as she put her clothes in a laundry basket. She emerged from the bathroom and went into Cam's bedroom, raiding his closet for clothes he wouldn't immediately miss. She opted for some sweats and an Air Force t shirt. Giving her hair another rub with the towel, she quickly combed it back with her fingers, returning to the bathroom to deposit the towel in the basket. She then took the basket downstairs with her. She walked across the lounge, spying Cam still fast asleep on the sofa, a plastic bowl now where he had previously vomited.

She entered the kitchen to find Daniel stood at the window, a mug of coffee in his hands, his back against the sink. She smiled at him, ignoring his curious expression as she walked past him into the utility room where she loaded the washing machine. Switching the utility room light off, she returned to the kitchen where Daniel took a seat at the kitchen table with his mug. She gestured to another mug on the table and said as he now read a newspaper,

"I made you one."

She smiled gratefully as she sat down opposite him and picked the mug up. He looked up at her with an unreadable expression, and said, raising his eyebrows, "You look comfortable."

She frowned a little at his comment. She took a sip of the coffee and said with a shrug, "I've known Cam a little while; we knew each other at the Academy, although not that well, I guess." She snorted with laughter. "This... _this_... is nothing." She grimaced a little. "Still not a fan of vomit." She appeared a little embarrassed as she said, looking at him, "Sorry that this isn't the social occasion you envisaged." She glanced back towards the lounge as she took another sip of coffee. "That whole thing on Galar brought back a lot of things for him." She returned her gaze to his. "I guess we forget that he hasn't been doing this for as long as we have."

He retorted, "You think?"

She frowned again, confused as he seemed a little off to her. She said, an eyebrow raised as she put her mug down on the table, "You know... that particular O'Neillism doesn't suit you."

He said nothing as he returned her gaze, his expression blank. She sighed to herself, and was about to speak when his expression softened. He appeared a touch awkward and said, glancing to the side, "I... I guess I'm tired." He looked at her apologetically. "This whole Ori thing... Vala being who knows where." He paused. "Yup. I could do with a break."

She looked down at her mug and suddenly felt a little awkward at mention of their 'extra back-up singer'. He hadn't talked about her much since the incident with the Supergate. Perhaps he was holding out hope for her; there had been that matter stream after all. She felt a pang of guilt; what right had she to judge his friendships? She had never got to know Vala, but she did feel some resentment over her shackling herself to Daniel to fulfil her own agenda. Typical Daniel to worry about someone he didn't know all that well. She felt another pang of guilt; she had been away for too long – the team dynamic seemed different to her. They had carried on without her.

He regarded her, noting her silence. It couldn't have been easy for to have to leave Nevada; she had always wanted to have time to work on the alien technology they and other teams had brought through the 'gate; something which her role at the SGC didn't give her much opportunity for. Nonetheless, she had designed and built many things – she designed much of Earth's flagship and its prototypes. He smiled to himself; she was a remarkable person. It was easy for him to forget in all the craziness of their jobs. His smile turned wistful as he watched her. He had forgotten about a lot of things. He watched her idly push her still damp hair behind her ears and he felt a pang of longing. She was beautiful. Of course he had noticed. He had always noticed her. But there would always be someone in between them. And that was fine. Because at least he was working with her again. However, he felt as though he was growing more inward as time went by; as though he needed to focus all of his energies on work; on defeating the Ori, on righting a wrong. Who was he kidding? It was self-preservation. The more time went by, the harder he found it to find new ways to hide how he felt about her. It wasn't important though. She was presumably starting things with Jack or would at least give it a shot now that he was not their direct superior any more.

He mentally shook himself as he felt himself becoming more and more introspective and just that bit neurotic. He said, gazing at her as he took a sip, "What about you?"

She seemed lost in her own reverie as she fidgeted with a coaster. She looked up at him, initially a little startled for the briefest of moments. "Hm?"

He said with a nod, "About taking a break? Are you going to go to D.C. on your next leave?" He paused, glancing to the side. "Or, I guess Jack could come here under the pretence of official business." He remarked with a smirk, his insides feeling as though they were twisting just that little bit uncomfortably, "Typical Jack; he's in his element right now being an even bigger _The _Man."

She appeared momentarily confused at his question. What did he mean? Surely he couldn't believe those ever present rumours... right? She said with a shrug, her expression blank, "I guess we should all go and visit the General at some point." She looked at him and asked, "Have you called him recently?"

He stared at her, almost incredulous. He raised his eyebrows at her and asked, suspicious, "Am I missing something?"

She stared back at him, matching his expression, and admittedly confused at his demeanour. She said, putting her mug back on the table, "Daniel, I don't know what this is about." Noticing he looked more bashful than challenging, she said, "You've known me a long time... if I was going to do anything about that stupid _crush_..." She cringed at the word and that she was being so open about something she had never really spoken to him about. She was about to continue when they both turned to the kitchen doorway; Daniel on seeing someone, Sam on following his gaze.

A dishevelled looking Cam stood in the doorway and said, grimacing as he began to get the mother of all headaches, "When did you guys come?"

Without waiting for an answer, he lurched forward to reach the fridge; he then reached in, grabbing a carton of orange juice and downed the contents in one. Leaving the carton on the side, he returned to the lounge and staggered up the stairs to his bedroom. Meanwhile, Sam and Daniel stared at where he had been and then at one another. Sam smirked in amusement as she finished the last of her coffee. Daniel matched her smirk as he finished his, but then his smirk faded into a wistful expression. What had she been about to say?


End file.
